


To Rages And Tears

by 1f_this_be_madness



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: (I mean of course not because they're recording The Miracle but just so you know), Affection, Angry Roger Taylor (Queen), Angst, Band Fic, Banter, Best Friends, Brian imagines his death, Canonical Character Death, Crying, Epic Friendship, Fights, Forgiveness, Freddie Mercury has a huge heart, Freddie Mercury is a forgiving soul, Freddie is sick and Roger is pissed off about it, Freddie's not going to die in this I promise, Gen, HIV/AIDS, HIV/AIDS Crisis, Hugs, I mean whatever happened with Brian and Anita, I'm Sorry, I'm not sure how to describe it he's just super sad, I'm really trying to make this end nice, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Introspection, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Soulmates, Protective John Deacon, Protective Roger Taylor (Queen), References to Depression, Roger Taylor yells about his emotions, Roger is sassy, Sad Brian May, Singing, Song: The Miracle (Queen), Space metaphors because Brian, Swearing, Terminal Illnesses, These boys are doing what they can
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-27 23:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20415982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: Roger Taylor likes a cynical lyric."What's this lyric really about, Fred?" He demanded in fury ... "'The Miracle'? WHAT miracle? So many things in the world are miraculous, you say, but damn it everything's going wrong!"(Or, during the writing and recording of the title track for their Miracle album, Roger gets angry about what is currently occuring in the band's life.)





	1. Chapter 1

Roger hates not speaking.

Not even that, because he is actually all right with the quiet, though in his element amongst chaos and loudness and excitement. No, what he hates is not speaking the truth.

And the truth right now is they're making this album with the axe over their heads. Well, over one head in particular. Freddie's. But when that axe stroke falls, and it will fall --he can already see the thinness of Freddie's face, loss of muscle tone-- it's going to take them all with it. Roger is sure of that. It'll certainly take John, who gazes at Freddie with green-grey gaze bulging, almost; it's like he's afraid to blink, like he thinks Freddie will dissolve into smoke or something if he takes his eyes off him for even a second. And John looks so fragile as he plays, as if Fred's death sentence coming due will hit him and kill him too.

So cynical, Roger. But he likes a cynical lyric in a song; that's life, isn't it? A series of ups and downs, and this is pretty fucking down, so why in the hell is Freddie writing about the ups, miracles and love and friendship, when all that shite will be gone once he is?!?

(That sentiment isn't fair, Roger knows; he and Brian have been friends since '69, they aren't getting rid of each other. Deacy... Well, John, he doesn't know. Can't figure what the bassman will do. He's too fucking quiet about all this.

Yet another reason Roger has started hating silences.)

"What's this lyric really about, Fred?" He demanded in fury when Freddie came into the studio, late as usual--though now whenever he is late Roger's heart turns into a hunk of ice and feels like it's dropping into his abdominal cavity (medically impossible, yeah, yeah he's aware) because what is the timeframe on this--this hell that is AIDS? What if this is the day that Freddie isn't coming? What if it means he's gone? Come off it, Roger; leave the morose speculation to Brian.

Because here Fred was beaming as he waved papers around excited about a new song he'd just finished writing, a track that he thinks could be their title one. He passed the lyrics round to them all, and Brian was sitting there with his long legs drawn up, nodding and tapping his lips and saying it was good. Meanwhile John just moves his mouth soundlessly and nods to Freddie with tears in his eyes. Roger, well. Roger explodes.

"'The Miracle'? WHAT miracle? So many things in the world are miraculous, you say, but damn it everything's going wrong! With our lives, and you," the drummer flings out both of his arms, hands outstretched as Brian looks up at him with widened hazel eyes. "Oh don't bloody look at me like that, Brian-- you know it! You feel it, everything's changing! You've got domestic shit to figure out, Deacy is over here trying not to break, and Fred--" whirling on the frontman Roger spits "You're _dying_, Freddie, and we can't talk about it and I don't know how to help you!!"

There is silence after Roger's outburst. He's lucky the microphones weren't on to pick up his shouting, as they hadn't actually begun their recording session yet. Just been standing in the booth with their instruments and Fred's new song.

Roger stares round at the rest of them, breathing heavily as his ears begin to ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, it seems I am on a Roger-angst kick at the moment. Dear man, he really does seem so angry and I imagine the loyalty of not speaking about Freddie's illness, though he was so strong and good to do it, they all were-- well, it had to have been hard. 
> 
> I recently watched his commentary (with Brian) on "The Miracle" music video, and my imagination ran away with me gladly :P  
Deciding whether or not to write about the music video itself. What do you think?
> 
> Reactions are appreciated <3


	2. Chapter 2

Freddie finds that he cannot breathe.

He's been finding it hard to breathe sometimes, more often recently. He gets pains throughout his body and feels so tired, exhausted, really, though his only movement on a particular day could be walking into the studio from his car in the morning and sitting for hours. He has to stop, however; cease singing and leave, to walk alone outside, or sit in the sun. Feels like a cat, soaking up the warmth, the healing rays. He wonders if they have legitimate healing properties because he feels better after having been outdoors. 

That was actually what started him writing this song. _Every leaf on every tree..._ they do tell stories, Brian would say; dear Brimi with his sweet sad eyes, his constant presence moving behind Freddie in their studio sessions to touch his shoulder or lean down and look at the singer's work, pressing his cheek to Fred's. Those long mobile fingers travelling over his guitar strings to honour Freddie's dearest wish, making music without complaint. A lump fills Freddie's throat as he sees Brian jerk in response to Roger's shouting, agony flaring behind those hazel eyes.

And John, dear Deacy is standing, lower lip trembling, long fingers clenching his bass. He doesn't speak, only smiles at Freddie, and looks at him as though he could will him to grow strong again, to feel better, with the force of his gaze alone. Freddie reaches out with a trembling hand and takes the bassist's arm. John moves one hand to squeeze his and grips Freddie's fingers tightly.

Now to Roger, glowing golden, fiery, loyal, furious man. He is shouting as though enraged, but those bright blue eyes of his are filling with tears and redness surrounds them. His ever-mobile face has grown so stiff and still in all his feeling, and now he's snapped and sent it out in a shock, a wave of fury that makes Freddie stagger. It pierces his heart and he feels so fragile, and weak, and small. "Oh, Roger," he croaks out. "Darling, I am _aching_ for a miracle." How can Roger help? He doesn't know. Play this song, for a start. But what if his dear drummer won't do that? What if it hurts so fiercely, them going along, and something gets to be too much? Is this too much? Freddie swallows hard, his lips now trembling. "...Will you play this with me, dear?"


	3. Chapter 3

Roger chokes. On an apology, or more shouting, or tears, he doesn't know which; he stands there with chest heaving, blond spikes of hair trembling as he stares at Freddie and then at the others. John's throat bobs and Brian's fingers tremble and Roger cannot take this right now. Fuck it. "'M sorry, Fred," he gets out, whirling round and jerking open the door to the booth, grabbing his jacket from the chair onto which he'd thrown it. "...need a smoke," he adds, though he needs far more than that. He needs life, life for Freddie Mercury so he can give it to his friend and cure him. He needs to find a bloody AIDS reversal or get that fucking time machine Brian should be building, the ruddy mad scientist that he is. Or find something that adds time, increases the amount of it. _You're looking for a miracle,_ a smug, smarmy voice sounds off in the drummer's head. "Oh piss off," he snarls aloud, shoving past their producer who has just arrived, raising his hands and spinning away from Roger's low and raw, lunging fury.

"Are we taking five at the beginning then?" He questioned. 

Freddie rolls his lips and looks at Brian, who stands and comes to him, head bent over Freddie's as he gently puts a hand on his friend's shoulder. Brian looks up after Freddie nods gratefully, and says "It'll be about fifteen minutes, maybe a few more than that. I'll go bring Roger back." The guitarist nods to John over Freddie's shoulder, and the bassist instantly trades his arms for Brian's hand as the tallest also departs the booth, softly saying "excuse me" upon his exit. 

Settling his coat so it hangs correctly on his shoulders, Brian offers a smile and thumbs up to John and Fred before he exits the studio and follows in Roger's wake.

***

For once Roger isn't heading to a pub. He's gone out on the opposite side of the studio, where there's this path along some water. And ducks. Has the clandestine nature of Saint James's Park except for the fact this walk IS actually clandestine; nobody ever comes out here unless they've been in the tiny studio. 

Which means as the blond stands by the water on a little grassy knoll, dashing tears furiously from his soft cheeks, he instantly knows who has followed him the second he hears the door. Doesn't even have to look back and see the curly flyaway hair or the gangly legs jogging towards him. He does look, however, and sees them, and finds himself feeling more furious than before. 

"Piss off, Brian!" Roger cries as the other man gets closer. He starts backing away. "I don't want to hear any of your babble about doing this for Fred and what I'm doing, what I just did is hurting him because I know it, I fucking know it, he should hate me, I ought never have snapped like I did--" his high fierce words are cut off as Brian shoots both arms out. Roger flinches, expecting a blow. He knows that he richly deserves one and Bri's eyes are flashing....

But all Brian does is take hold of Roger's shoulders to pull him in, burying his face in the drummer's hair and wrapping his arms around Roger as he gives his best mate an enormous hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roger definitely could have reacted differently in all his hurt, because he did hurt Freddie :'( but he's Roger, he's a spitfire of the highest degree.
> 
> Brian Harold May is a sweetheart of a man and I adore him.
> 
> The studio and little park outside are places of my own invention, and my nod to St James Park comes from another piece of British pop culture :)
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

John looks to Freddie as the door closes behind Brian with a thud. Fred's shoulders jerk up as though he had been physically struck by the sound and the bassist holds him tighter. "Here, Freddie," he says gently, moving instrument stands to create some space and pulling over a chair. "Let's siddown, yeah?"

Freddie nods, full lips folded over teeth as he sits, one arm shaking a bit as he takes hold of the chair to lower himself. John's heart lurches as he notices that, and he kneels beside Fred, eyes wide, face open and full of so much feeling the singer can hardly bear to look at him. "Oh, Deacy," voice thick and wobbling as he puts a hand in John's hair, stroking the soft curls. "Do I ever--" Freddie stops speaking, pursing his lips, brown eyes flickering as he continues "--do you ever think or feel I... I'm asking too much of you? Of all of you, to see me this way and to keep working the way we are?" As though nothing is wrong, he meant. Because of course it is, though he wishes acting as he does could make all well. He does so as an attempt at comfort for his boys as well as for himself. Obviously, this is not and has not been a comfort for Roger. But don't stop him now, because what else is there to do? Freddie looks to John pleadingly, with an ache in his eyes.

Oh, Freddie. John nearly dissolves into tears at how loving his friend always is, how worried about the way everyone else is feeling; much more so than he worries about himself. But he's got to take care of himself. John cannot bear to lose him. He can't. "I want you to do whatever you need to do, Freddie," the bassist says. To stay alive, to feel well. He puts a hand on his friend's arm, leaning his face into Freddie as well before looking directly up into Fred's eyes with all of his affection in evidence, as well as a few tears that glimmer and collect on his lashes but do not fall. "It's-- doing this is never too much, not if it makes you happy." John's lips tremble and his eyes fill with more tears as Freddie shakily strokes his hair. _If I could only reach you, if I could make you smile--if I could only reach you, that would really be a breakthrough._

Looking at Freddie, John moves forward to bury his face in the other man's chest as he wraps both arms around him. His ever-gentle quiet voice is muffled. "Do what YOU need, Fred. I--we're all with you." He knows Roger is too, even in his explosions of anger. That's just Roger, fiery, fierce, but loyal. Always loyal.

Freddie puts his arms around the youngest band member and holds him close, stroking his head and then pressing a kiss to his crown. He feels so lucky to have John, to have all of them. And for his dearest Deacy to say such sweet and caring things, it's overwhelming. But so wonderful. Freddie's tone of voice is fervent as he whispers "Thank you so much, John, my dear."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Deaks to the rescue! I love him so much, he wants only to take care of Freddie and for Freddie to take care of himself. And Fred just wants everyone else to be all right, dear altruistic man
> 
> *_If I could only reach you, if I could make you smile--if I could only reach you, that would really be a breakthrough._ = lyrics from the song "Breakthru" included because the band all wrote that one together. It seemed appropriate here and I'm sure lyrical phrases pop up in a musician's mind anytime, anytime! ;P
> 
> Hope you're enjoying, I think there will be at least two more chapters, possibly three. Onward to Bri and Roger!
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


	5. Chapter 5

Roger holds onto Brian and sobs, his entire body shaking. His fists are clenched together at Bri's back, clutching fistfuls of his coat, and Roger rams his face into the bones of Brian's chest, his smooth skin in evidence under that damn low-cut fashion thing he always does, having not one but like three extra buttons of his shirt open to expose just a sliver of skin. Tasteful yet enticing. Roger has no idea how Brian does that, balancing on the knife's edge of not too much but enough, at least in the music world. 

Roger knows Brian has troubles of his own at home, starting when he met Anita, probably before--all just came to a head as he came into her glorious presence. But Bri handles, or doesn't handle, his emotions inside. He gets broody and quieter than usual. He doesn't fucking explode the way Roger does. He's the chilly moon to Rog's blazing sun, and right now Roger feels like a forest fire, he's burning out of control. What is the astronomical equivalent of that, he has no idea. He bloody well isn't going to ask.

Brian holds Roger tight, long hands rubbing up and down the drummer's shaking back as he murmurs endearments. "There now, Rogie, there now." He wants to say that it's all right, but truthfully he doesn't believe that. Everything is spiraling out of control; his family, his father, Freddie being ill... All the secrecy, the forced omission. Not lying, because Brian refuses to do that, but still, this is all so hard. He just wants to be there for Fred, and knows that Roger does as well, even in all his anger. Especially in his anger. Not knowing how to help, well, welcome to the club. Brian holds his friend until he is all cried out, and as Roger shifts back a bit, the guitarist wipes away his tears. He studies the other's face seriously, eyes roving over Roger's features, taking him in. This fireball of a man is keeping him from drowning in his own darkness. Brian's got to hold onto him. So he asks "What are you going to do, Rogie?"

"What are WE going to do, Bri?" Roger counters. He steps out of the other man's embrace completely, waving an arm. "This is bollocks, is what it is. A completely fucked up situation we've got. You know it, I know it. Deaks knows deep down even though he doesn't bloody SAY anything. And Fred just wants to keep going, which is bloody brave, Brian. Braver than I could ever be, but--I can't help him!" He spins, fists clenching, arms out, breaths heaving. In helplessness and fury, he roars "_I dunno what the fuck to do!_"

Brian blinks. "Well, shouting about everything surely helps," he says sardonically. He steps closer to Roger and puts a hand on his shoulder. Roger doesn't look at him. "Maybe doing what Fred asked us, working. That's what we do for him. I'm not saying it's going to be easy..." Brian's voice catches, squeaks. He clenches his eyes shut and swallows so as not to cry. "But he asked us--he said he wants to work until he drops." Roger lets out a tiny cry at those words and Brian leans into him. "I know," he says softly. "But Rog, this is how we help him. And ourselves. We've got to keep going. If we don't--if _I_ don't--" Brian has started trembling. The feeling of nothingness, the yawning gulf opens behind his eyes and threatens to pull him in. His grip tightens on Roger and the drummer turns to face him, seeing the agony in Brian's eyes, hearing it tearing through his voice. Brian feels as if his knees might buckle right here. Maybe his heart will stop at this very moment, overwrought as he is with struggles and agony and sorrow. Mayhap he'll fall and won't get back up, and Roger and the boys can bury him out here with the ducks and the flowers.

But no, Brian realises as Roger grabs onto him again, gripping his face with those strong calloused drummer's fingers as he stares at Brian with those flashing blue eyes. No, he's not going to expire. Roger speaks up, flat but fierce as he sighs, seeming to decide something. "Well I'm not letting whatever the fuck you were thinking and about to say happen to you, Brian. No way. So shut the fuck up and come back inside with me so we can work on this bloody song, alright? The Miracle," he mutters. "It's a miracle that we all deal with this and with each other in the first place."

Brian smiles. Tremulous at first, but he wraps an arm around Roger's shoulders as the shorter man tugs at his waist to actively head back inside. His smile strengthens as do his steps, and Brian expels a creaky chuckle at his mate's words. "...You're right about that, Rog."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just made edits to the first chapter, there will be at least two more :)
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


	6. Chapter 6

Freddie and John look up from their embrace as Brian holds the door open for Roger to make his way back inside. He ducks under Bri's arm and shrugs out of his jacket with a sharp jerk, shaking it out as though he could shake everything right. Yeah. He tosses the garment onto a hook and wipes a hand down his chin sharply as he glances back to Brian, who nods at him with a slight jerk of the head as he hangs up his own jacket.

Roger sighs, a sharp, irritated sound, and strides back into the recording booth, nodding to the producer and coming up to his seated bandmates. "Freddie, John--" he says, high voice rough. He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders before saying "I'm here to work on the song. Let's do it, yeah?" His blue eyes rest on Freddie's brown ones and he feels his lips start to tremble as Freddie looks at him. "Fred, I--"

Freddie rears to his feet and flies into Roger's arms abruptly, his thinness doing nothing to weaken his embrace as he wraps his arms around Roger's shoulders and buries his face into the drummer's neck. Roger grunts at the force of the hug. He feels the singer trembling as he clutches Roger close, and feels himself let out another sob, though he thought he was done with crying, damn it. But oh, Fred....

"It's alright, Roger. It's alright," Freddie soothes as Roger gasps and shudders, stroking his dear friend's hair. "I know this is, this has to be so awful for you, my dear. For you all. And you've done so much for me, I'm so grateful." Roger sniffles and clutches him tighter as Freddie spreads his fingers to hold Roger round the back. "And you might not understand, but I wrote this piece on miracles because of that. Because of you," Freddie moves back to rest his forehead to Roger's, wiping tears from Roger's cheeks. "You--you are all my miracles," Freddie lifts his head and eyes to catch John's and Brian's. "That's why I want us to work on this, to create it, together. If you will." His brown eyes are big, seem even larger in his thinner face, set off by the slight stubble that has replaced his moustache of late. "Will you?" He relinquishes Roger as he asks this of them all.

Roger looks at John, who is smiling and nodding; Brian, who has entered the booth and now has tears in his eyes. A single tear slides down Bri's right cheek and he catches it with a knobbly knuckle. The guitarist inclines his head and whispers "Of course, Fred. I will."

Freddie beams, looking back at Roger with uncertainty in the depths of his gaze. "And you, my love?" He speaks far softer. "Will you deal with this hellishness for me, Roger?"

Roger lets out a bark of laughter that catches like a sob. How can he refuse his dearest Freddie anything? "Course I will," he growls out, but the growl is a gentle one. "We'll have to do some serious layering on the tracks so I'll be able to bear it, alright, but yes, I'll do it." He wipes his eyes with one forearm. May not believe in miracles but he is going to do this for that exultant look in Freddie's eyes alone. 

Freddie swoops in and kisses Roger's cheeks and then his forehead. "Oh, thank you, Blondie," he uses the drummer's pet name fondly. "Thank you so much." His words encompass far more than just this song-- he gives thanks for Roger's presence and care and loyalty and love throughout the years. Everything he has given, everything he is. He cups the blond man's cheeks in his hands and Roger reaches up, pressing and then holding onto Freddie's fingers. 

Roger's tone and eyes and everything about him is sincere as he replies quietly. Knowing the truth of what he is about to say, despite his raging, despite everything: "Anything for you, Fred."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well thank goodness for the closeness between Roger and Freddie, they don't always need words but they'll say them and understand each other. Oh I do love their friendship, platonic soulmates through and through  
Also Bri knows Roger well enough to just look at him and let him know he's got to go in and talk to Fred! Good ol' Bri
> 
> *"... some serious layering on the tracks" = in the commentary on The Miracle, Roger said he loved the layering of this particular song, so I wanted to mention it.
> 
> *Blondie is a nickname Freddie has called Roger during several concert videos I've seen, and I find it cute :)
> 
> I don't know what all Freddie was thinking as he wrote The Miracle, but I imagine he definitely saw his band family as miracles in his life <3
> 
> One more chapter I believe, loves! Comments appreciated


	7. Chapter 7

_Anything._

Anything such as staying up til all hours going over the piano introduction, Deaks itching for a synthesizer to be added in along with his bass on Freddie's second verse. The space for not one but multiple guitar sections, layered over each other, progression of notes rising. Roger saying "The drum bit doesn't work, let me fix it--"

"It sounds lovely, darling."

"Not lovely enough! This is a miracle, right? Gotta bloody sound like it."

_Anything._

When they run out of tape, and there's an echo, and they've got to record the bridge again; when pitching ideas for a music video, someone suggests having child versions of them playing therein. There are shrugs, and "Why not? It isn't the weirdest thing we've done."

"Not any weirder than 'Calling All Girls' and certainly not nearly so odd as your ruff, Roger."

"Oi! What'd I tell you about mentioning the bloody ruff again?!"

"You looked fantastic, darling. And I must say you deserved it for getting me to dress in drag."

"... He's gotcha on that one, Rog."

"Oh piss off."

_Anything._

And then as they record, at the sight of the light in Freddie's eyes, suffusing his face with radiance and life and pure, exultant joy as he sings his heart out with and for his dear boys, his family, Roger sits back on and beats his drums and knows just how lucky he is to be able to do anything for Freddie Mercury. He looks at Brian and John, and they feel the same way.

It is a privilege to be here working and singing and playing, doing anything they can for the love they all bear their dearest friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the members of the band Queen, as always
> 
> *The comments on 'Calling All Girls', Roger's ruff, and Freddie in drag refer to the music videos for 'Calling All Girls', 'It's a Hard Life', and 'I Want to Break Free'. The first was a spoof on a George Lucas short film, and it's absolutely ridiculous. Roger is well-known for hating the music video for 'Hard Life' and apparently Freddie had to be convinced to don his signature look of that black wig, pink top, and sexy leather skirt ;P love it
> 
> This is my last chapter, loves! I hope this ended nicely enough after all the angst. The title of this piece comes from Roger's song "Drowse".
> 
> Comments appreciated <3


End file.
